


Tony Stark Has Had Worse Ideas

by TheoMiller



Series: something bigger [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Background OC's - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, M/M, Police Brutality, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Relationship Negotiation, Slow Build, Swearing, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2174370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheoMiller/pseuds/TheoMiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Tony takes Steve and Bucky, who are already dating, on a road trip in his red-and-gold bus to get them to fall in love, and Steve and Bucky end up falling for Tony. Also, Steve gets involved in a Ferguson-esque protest along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tony Stark Has Had Worse Ideas

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of PTSD, some scenes are set in a thinly veiled fictional version of Ferguson, not-so-nice cops are definitely involved, and Steve kills a Hydra agent. And swears. Also, kissing.

“Bruce has been weird and mopey since right before you guys moved in, Pepper says I should ‘give him space’, so I’ll be your tour guide!”

Steve and Bucky exchanged glances, then shrugged.

X-x-X-x-X

Tony was smirking when he left them in the main compartment of the StarkBus with a queen-sized futon to seal himself in his own compartment with a comment about sound-proofing.

Steve rolled his eyes and crawled into bed. “He has no idea we’ve been sharing a bed for weeks, does he?”

“He’s not very observant,” said Bucky.

X-x-X-x-X

“Holy fuck,” one of the guys at the poker table in Atlantic City said, a few hands in. “You’re Captain America.”

Steve blushed, and then everyone was staring.

Tony strolled up and clapped hands on both Bucky and Steve’s shoulders. “I can’t take you two anywhere,” he drawled. “Hope you gentlemen had fun getting out-bluffed by an American icon.”

X-x-X-x-X

“You’re hot when you lie through your teeth,” Bucky said.

“Aren’t I hot when I’m being normal me?” asked Steve, with wide eyes.

Bucky swore. “Steve, I didn’t—you _punk_ ,” he added, when Steve cracked up. “Ugh. Unbelievable.”

“Really? Because you just believed me.”

“Remind me again why I like you?” grumbled Bucky.

Steve glanced around for Tony, then leaned forward and kissed Bucky. “Because you’re sweet on me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

X-x-X-x-X

“This is a very nice aquarium,” Steve said, “But aren’t we supposed to be heading west?”

Tony grinned at him and lowered his camera, which probably cost more than a year’s pay in the army. “Haven’t you ever heard the expression, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?” He asked. He nodded over Steve’s shoulder to where Bucky was watching the sharks swim in lazy circles.

“Yeah,” said Steve.

“Then stop brushing my tour bus’s teeth and go delight in your nursing home romance.”

“Can we go to the bookstore across the street afterwards?” Steve asked.

Stark shrugged, and Steve positively beamed.

X-x-X-x-X

While Tony dragged Bucky over to the section of books about gay rights and advice, Steve doubled back to the display where some raunchy book series was being displayed. He bit his lip, wondering if he could get away with his Totally Innocent, Did Not Understand The Sexual Implications routine if he got caught looking at one, and heard a hissed, “Don’t.”

He turned around to find a young woman in the store’s uniform, who jerked her head to indicate for him to follow.

“You’re looking for sex tips, right, Cap?”

“I—” he blinked.

“Don’t worry, my queerdar picked up on you when I was twelve, you’re not being too obvious. No, but really, avoid those books, they’re crap, I can link you to so much free online erotica that showcases healthy, same-sex relationships. Even some with proper BDSM etiquette.”

Steve, who had followed one too many of Tony’s harmless seeming links to not know about BDSM, blushed. “I, uh. It’s a new relationship, _really_ new, I don’t wanna get into _that_ right now. I just… I don’t suppose you have books, or links, about building a healthy relationship with someone who’s got PTSD?”

“Well, I don’t think _Twist & Shout_’s gonna be much more than a guide on what not to do, but I can give you some pointers?” she said.

And, okay, Steve was discussing his personal life with a total stranger who seemed to be underage in addition to _very_ well-read in gay erotica. He hoped to God she wouldn’t sell her story to the press. Ms. Grey would absolutely murder him.

But he glanced over his shoulder, found Bucky had distracted (and flabbergasted) Tony by picking up one of the books and reading it with exaggerated eagerness, and then turned back to her to nod quickly.

“Okay, so,” the girl said, bouncing on the balls of her feet, “And I cannot stress this enough, really,” she added, “ _talk_ to him. Ask him about his concerns, don’t do anything without clearly communicated consent, and, well. The red-yellow-green light system is usually a BDSM thing, it’s a little better than safe-words in some cases, but basically, red is ‘nope’, yellow is ‘proceed with caution’, and green is ‘hells yeah’. Got it?”

Steve nodded, and the girl stood on tiptoes. “They’re coming. Want a cover story that’s not a lie?” she asked.

“Uh,” he said, because he was suddenly hearing Natasha in the voice of a girl who looked very little like her. “Sure.”

“I’m giving you book advice. Now, Harry Potter is a must, you read that yet?”

“Finished book seven last week,” he said.

She jabbed a finger at him. “Do you like Snape?”

“No!”

“You’re a fuckin’ dreamboat,” she told him. “Okay, Terry Pratchett, anything by Pratchett, but especially _Good Omens: The Nice And Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch_. We have super sweet copies of a lot of classics bound all prettily on a table over there, you gotta read Gatsby, don’t do Ayn Rand, try Orwell, definitely give George R. R. Martin a shot, avoid Terry Goodkind, embrace Adichie, and probably skip Shelley given your history as a lab rat.”

Steve blinked. “I think I’ve got it. Pratchett, Orwell, Martin, Adichie.”

“Bingo. Oh! Kerouac’s _On the Road_.”

Tony and Bucky approached just as she tilted her head and chirped, “Have an excellent day, sir!”

X-x-X-x-X

Bucky left the aquarium with a shark plushie he called Milashka, and Steve left the bookstore with a leather-bound notebook, a few novels the very eager teenager behind the counter had suggested, and a sketchbook.

Tony took a picture of the stack of books Steve carried and sent them to Bruce with only the caption “ _????_ ”.

The reply came quickly, a reminder that Bruce’s dual major in science hadn’t led him to take many lit classes.

X-x-X-x-X

Steve curled around Bucky after they finished establishing the rules of the red/yellow/green system, and Bucky nestled himself against Steve’s chest while Steve buried his face in Bucky’s hair. “Do you remember… my mother used to talk about the miracles saints performed? Healing the sick and never decaying and appearing to people.”

“She was a good lady, your ma,” said Bucky. “What about her saints, then?”

“After she died, I thought – well. I thought her saints weren’t good for anything, not if they couldn’t save her. And when I met Howard, and Erskine, and Peggy, I thought that everything was down to science, not miracles or fate or saints or divine intervention. That God had created us and then left us to our own devices, left everything to its own devices, and that’s why bad things happened. The absence of God is what makes evil, and all that. And saints weren’t involved at all, ‘cause the dead stay dead.”

Bucky didn’t reply. He’d never been particularly religious, used to blaspheme just to get Steve and Sarah all riled up, ‘cause Sarah Rogers had a wicked arm when she wanted, and Bucky liked to stir her up and make her give him that _look_ , the one that said ‘you’d better be glad I like you, boy’. But Steve had been, before the war. Before Sarah died of the tuberculosis she risked her life to treat.

“Even when I woke up, I thought – but then I got to know my teammates, and found out there’s a lot more options that Catholic or Protestant or Jewish. And now, well, I don’t know what it is. Miracles or science or fate or God or what. But I know it’s something. Something brought us back together, over and over and over.”

“Maybe it’s just us,” said Bucky. “Maybe you and me refuse to die or surrender or obey until we’re together.”

Steve hummed into Bucky’s hair, nuzzling at the base of his skull with his nose as he clutched Bucky close, like he was trying to meld them together. “Yeah,” he said. “That sounds about right. To the end of the line.”

“To the end of the line,” Bucky croaked out, and then shuddered as he was wracked by a sob.

“Hey,” said Steve, “shh, Buck, ‘salright, tell me what I did wrong, what do you need?”

“I can’t – I’m gonna wake up tomorrow in the cyro-freeze and they’re gonna give me a mission, Steve, this isn’t, this can’t be real…”

“It is, Buck, it has to be real,” Steve said, “There’s no way you imagined this. We’re on a bus that converts into a moving house and a moving strip club depending on which button Tony presses. There’s no way you imagined Tony.”

Bucky laughed, the sound forced out of him. “Fucking _Tony_ ,” he said.

“God, he’s Howard’s son, and he’s older than us and… and… and he’s _Tony_. You wouldn’t believe how much of an ass he was when I met him, Buck, it’s a miracle I didn’t strangle him.”

“No way,” Bucky said. “What the hell did he say?”

“It was more that he was trying to play the hero when he grew up richer than you and me could’ve imagined. And then he was trying to get Bruce to hulk out. On a plane! With people around!”

Bucky was shaken by laughter instead of sobs now, tears still streaming. “For science?”

“I don’t even _know_. Probably. But then I was a bit rude…”

“You? Rude? Never!” Bucky gasped mockingly, and Steve thumped him one.

“And anyway, Tony and I got off on the wrong foot, end of story. But that’s when I was certain it was real. No way I could imagine _that_. Well, that, and Coulson’s trading cards.”

Bucky snorted. “You could never imagine a world where you have adoring fans. Even though you’ve lived in one your whole damn life.”

Steve tugged on Bucky’s hips to roll him around to face him. “Are you my biggest fan, then?” He teased.

“Yep,” said Bucky.

“Good,” Steve said, “’Cause I’m yours.”

“That was cheesy as hell, Steve.”

X-x-X-x-X

“We’re taking a detour,” Steve growled, and Tony blinked.

“Detour? What’s going on? Mission? I’ll go get the suit.”

“No!” Steve snapped, and then his face crumpled and he smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Tony, I shouldn’t have… it’s a protest, and it’s getting violent, and I want to make sure we don’t make things escalate by being there all suited up.”

Tony’s eyes went narrow. “Hang on, you’re talking about that kid who got shot, right?”

“The unarmed black kid who was shot by police,” confirmed Steve.

Tony snorted. “Yeah, which one?” he asked.

Steve just clenched his jaw and looked away, hands balled into fists like he was really wishing he could punch something.

“We’re heading that way, anyway. Sorry to divert the road-trip,” Bucky said. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, and the non-metal one was tensed, his veins and muscles standing out under his skin.

Tony tore his gaze away and shrugged. “Whatever, man, I could use some excitement. So! Sure you don’t want me to bring the suit? Ooh, if you wore _yours_ , and the shield—”

“Oh, I’m wearing mine,” said Steve.

Bucky met Tony’s eyes and shrugged. “He doesn’t want weapons involved. He’s worried civilians will get hurt.”

“Is he always like this?” Tony stage-whispered, and Steve rolled his eyes and went to start the bus.

“When we were kids, he used to get involved in fights like this all the time. I’d check alleyways for him without even thinkin’ about it, to make sure he wasn’t bleeding out behind some bins. And then, when I picked him up and got him dusted off, he’d get all pissy with me ‘bout saving him. ‘I had him on the ropes’, he’d tell me.”

“Piss off,” Steve called from the cab.

Tony snickered.

X-x-X-x-X

“Gentlemen,” Steve said to a few of the protestors. One of them dropped his sign, and the other looked him over warily. “Sorry,” he said, and bended to pick up the fallen sign and hold it out, “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Holy _shit_ ,” a girl with dreads said. “It’s really you.”

Steve shrugged self-deprecatingly, and then Tony was striding in, drawling out his greetings.

“Got any extra protest signs?” Steve asked, when Tony was done preening and chatting and taking selfies.

“Shit, man, you can take mine,” the girl said. “Oh, fuck, I’m cussing in front of Captain fu— _udging_ America.”

“I’ve said worse,” Tony assured him.

Bucky, satisfied they were settled in, retreated a bit to the fringes of the crowd forming around Steve so he could keep an eye on things. The girl with dreads fell back too, but she was keeping an eye on Bucky. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

“Ex-military?” she guessed.

“Yeah,” he said. “That obvious?”

“A lot of military folks have shown up. You learn to recognize them after a while. Especially when they show up with Captain fuckin’ America. I’m Kaya, by the way.”

“Bucky,” he said.

“Holy fuck,” said Kaya. “You’re Bucky Barnes! My granddad had a Bucky Bear, dude. Seriously, though, what’re you and Cap and Stark, of all people, doing here? You trying to shut us down?”

“Steve’s more like to steal the coppers’ guns and chew ‘em out,” said Bucky. He resisted the urge to add _and not in the fun way_.

“Thought you were the bad boy of the group,” Kaya said, but she sounded more amused than surprised.

“You shitting me?” Bucky asked. He could hear the strains of Brooklyn bleeding into his voice as he thought about Steve, back before he was a super soldier, when he was just Bucky’s punk of a best friend. “That boy has a rebellious streak a mile deep. I spent half my life getting him outta trouble. We lived round some gay bars, and I used to find him beatin’ up guys who tried to beat the gay outta folks.”

All the close calls he’d had with Steve back then.

“Are you okay?” Kaya asked.

He lifted his head and checked on Steve, who was letting a few kids heft his shield while their mothers (and more than a few fathers) got the full-watt Tony Stark charm. Then, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. I’m gonna take a walk. Perimeter check.”

“Do you want company? I could use a walk, and I’m less likely to get tear-gassed if I have a white dude with me.”

Was she hitting on him? Bucky couldn’t decide. Still, if keeping him around would make her safer, he might as well. So he led her along, explaining the things he looked for – people in a crowd who were too still, not moving naturally in favour of waiting for cues; people tensed for a fight; individuals dispersed through a crowd who keep making eye contact – as he walked.

And then he bumped into the cop doing the same patrol. Except Bucky was still in civilian clothes, and this guy was in full riot gear, complete with a shield that had nothing, _nothing_ , on Steve’s, but would probably stop his knife all the same. He moved in front of Kaya without thinking about it. “Officer,” he said.

“What are you two doing, sneaking about?” The man asked.

“I wasn’t sneaking, I was _walking_. If I were sneaking, you’d know. Or rather, you wouldn’t because you’d never see me.”

Kaya stepped out from behind him. “Are we free to go?” she asked the cop.

“Why would you be sneaking?” The cop said, ignoring her.

Bucky shrugged. “I was a sniper. Sneaky is part of the job.”

“Sir, _are we free to go_?” Kaya asked.

“You know what, no,” said the cop. “You’re being detained.”

“Do you have reasonable suspicion?” she demanded, and Bucky was reminded of Peggy arguing with Phillips.

“Turn out your pockets,” the officer snapped.

Kaya’s eyes went flinty and dangerous, and yeah, that was pure Peggy, Bucky kind of wanted to back away. “I do not consent to a search,” she said.

Then he was grabbing her arm and roughly forcing it behind her back, and Bucky moved. He grabbed the edge of the riot shield and yanked, pulling him away from Kaya. “You should probably stay back,” he told her. “Ah, ah-ah-ah, no,” he added to the cop, as he swung ineffectually at Bucky. “Drop the shield, hands up, and we’re not gonna have a proble—”

Kaya yelped louder than Bucky did when the Taser connected. He yanked the wires away, only to find out that there were a lot of cops with Tasers. Enough to kill a regular man, if he wasn’t very much mistaken. But then, he was passing out on the pavement, so what did he know?

X-x-X-x-X

“Where’s Bucky?” Steve asked.

Tony, who was working on schematics for on-uniform surveillance cameras for cops, glanced up. “Lurking?”

“No, he always checks in after an hour, it’s been longer than that.”

“Is Bucky the guy with the metal hand, blue hoodie, great hair?” An Arab guy asked. “’Cause, uh, he totally got arrested with Kaya. The tased him, like, nineteen times.”

“It was awful,” the tiny girl beside him said.

Steve’s jaw clenched. “Take me to where it happened,” he said.

Tony murmured apologies to the crowd and followed Steve and the pair – who introduce themselves as Amir Darzi and Amelia Amesbury, Naya Chrisman’s best friends – over to the edge of the protest. Steve brushed past the first few cops before he was stopped by a rather brave one, who had fancy stripes on his shoulders that Tony didn’t bother to identify.

“You can’t go any further,” the man squeaked.

“Sir,” said Steve, “My best friend, who has both amnesia and PTSD, was tased repeatedly by your officers. If he wakes up in holding cell injured and alone, you’re going to have bigger problems than me.”

“And trust me, he’s a pretty big problem,” Tony piped up.

The cops backed away.

X-x-X-x-X

“I’m fine, Steve, really,” Bucky said, for the millionth time.

One of the few reporters who’d managed to stick it out approached them. “Captain Rogers?” he said. “May I speak to you?”

“Uh, sure,” said Steve. “But call me Steve. I’m on vacation.”

“Do you frequently visit protests on vacation?” The reporter was grinning as he tapped out a tweet.

Steve shrugged. “The last vacation I took, I was taking care of Tony here after his surgery. Before that, I hadn’t had one in… seventy years? Buck, when were we last on leave, do you know?”

“The bar in the mountains, right before the train mission,” said Bucky. Steve winced.

“Do you mind if I take a picture of the three of you holding protest signs?”

“If it gets people to pay attention to what’s happening here, sir, I’m all for it,” Steve told him, and lifted up the sign. “Do you need a quote? I could probably keep it under 140 characters.”

The reporter positively beamed.

X-x-X-x-X

“The hashtag ‘WWCAD’ is trending,” Tony said, when they were crossing the border into Oklahoma. “Your quote is making headlines.”

_Serve & protect. Just who was protected here?_

“Tony,” said Bucky warningly, from the driver’s seat.

Steve sighed and put down his book. “Tony, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the updates, but we all know damn well no-one cared about that boy until Captain Aryan stepped in. And now they still only care about me, about my reaction to it, instead of the actual problem.”

“Did you just call yourself Captain Aryan?” Tony asked.

“No-one gave a damn about me when I was a disabled poor kid. Suddenly I become a perfect male specimen, in addition to be blond-haired and blue-eyed, and everyone’s all over themselves to make me a symbol of America when I could’ve just have easily been the face of Nazism.”

“Well, except for being queer,” said Tony. “And, y’know, opposed to murder and genocide and everything else that makes a good little Captain Reich.”

Bucky snorted a laugh.

X-x-X-x-X

“Steve says you two got off on the wrong foot,” said Bucky. “Says he was _rude_ , even.”

Tony chuckled drily. “You could say that, yeah.”

“What’d you do to get him in such a lather?”

“I refused to follow his orders, he refused to take my shit, and we both fucked things up by comparing people to each other. He had some sick burns, too, that’s a guy that knew how to throw some shade.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” Bucky told him, as they climbed the steps back into the StarkBus, where Steve was folding out the futon into a bed. “You sound like Clint.”

Tony shoved at him. “I do not! Take that back!”

“I will _not_ take that back,” said Bucky.

“Fine, then I’ll program your arm to play patriotic songs at random intervals.”

“And I’ll have Natasha _fix_ it.”

“Natasha would find it too funny to fix.”

“Natasha actually likes me.”

“Hey! Natasha likes me! I grew on her, like a weird sort of mold-fungus thing. I do that, you know. Grow on people, not weird fungus things. Well, I did shrooms _once_.”

“You’re an idi—” Bucky broke off, because Steve was practically _stumbling_ out of the bus and into the crisp desert air. “Hang on a sec.”

X-x-X-x-X

Steve was watching Tony and Bucky bicker good-naturedly about – god, he didn’t even know, it got filtered out by the rushing in his ears and the pounding of his heart – when he realized he was in love with both of them.

“Fuck,” Steve muttered, and Bucky glanced up quizzically. Steve stomped out of the room, waving Bucky’s unspoken question away.

X-x-X-x-X

 _Bucky’s tucked against Steve, lying flat on his back but with his head turned to press against Steve’s side while Steve draws Clint’s bow. He hasn’t spoken in a long time, but he’s not tense the way he gets when it’s one of_ those _days._

_Steve desperately wants to throw aside his sketchbook and pull Bucky close and never let go._

X-x-X-x-X

_Tony looks like hell. Pepper had called Steve, who’d cashed in all of his leave to go pry the still-recovering scientist away from his work long enough for him to actually heal. He’s suddenly very, very glad he had, because Tony is literally jumping on tip-toes to try and reach the tablet that Steve’s placed well above his reach._

_So Steve plucks him up, bridal style just to annoy him, and carries him over to one of the ridiculously white chaise lounges. (Seriously, who gets white furniture? How can you keep it clean)_

_Tony flails about in his arms, pretending to be a swooning Southern belle that Steve has rescued._

_Steve’s tempted to drop him._

X-x-X-x-X

“What’s goin’ on, Steve?” Bucky asked.

Steve felt sick, staring up at the darking sky. He wet his lips once, twice, and then managed to choke out, “I’m sorry.”

“Stevie?” said Bucky, and his voice sounded distant and strange.

Like he was… like he was assuming the worst, because he always assumed the worst when it came to this. Steve felt even worse, the guilt churning in his stomach as he stood up to grab Bucky’s shoulders.. “I love you, Buck, you know I love you, you’re my best guy,” Steve said. “But—”

“But you’re not in love with me?” guessed Bucky.

“What? No! Of course I’m – I’m not explaining this well at all. But I still want you. End of the line.”

“Jesus,” Bucky said. “You scared the shit outta me. Thought you were rethinkin’ this whole dating business. I don’t know bout you, but I’m not too keen on the idea of Natasha playin’ matchmaker with me.”

“No,” said Steve, “I’m not rethinking things. But I’d understand if you wanted to, after this.”

Bucky made a frustrated noise and shoved him. “Spit it out, punk.”

“I’m in love with Tony too,” Steve said in a rush, and then winced, burying his face in his hands.

There was a pause. Then, “You got shit taste, Rogers. Shit. Taste. Except for Peggy, she was a fine dame, way too good for you.”

Steve glanced up. “You—I—what?” he said.

Bucky nudged him with his metal elbow as they stood side-by-side, looking out at the sunset together. “You’re an idiot,” he said. “You’d’ve had an asthma attack worrying about this back in the day,” he added.

“Yeah, well,” said Steve. “No more helping me breathe through the night these days. Just me being a fucking mess in general.”

He gasped and clutched a hand to his heart. “Did the great Captain America just swear?” Bucky teased.

“Fuck you,” Steve said. “I’m tryna have a heart-to-heart with you here, about my feelings, and you’re just being a jerk.”

“Aww, look at that good-old fashioned Brooklyn bleeding through, none of this fancy enunciation. You know, I think—” Steve silenced him with a kiss.

“Bucky,” he said gently. “We need to talk about this.”

Before either of them could speak, though, Tony stuck his head out of the StarkBus. “Uh, boys? Natasha’s on the line.”

“Coming,” said Steve, and thumped Bucky one when he muttered, _not yet_. “Hey, Nat,” he said to the screen, where Natasha was watching them with her lips pressed together in a thin line. “Is something wrong?”

“You stirred up too much attention in Missouri, boys. Hydra – or, what’s left of it – is on your tail. We’re prepping the QuinJet, but I’m not sure how long it will take us to get there, so—”

“Don’t,” Steve said. “We can get the drop on them if they don’t think we know they’re coming. We’ll continue as planned, and when they show up, we’ll be ready and waiting. They’ll lose the element of surprise, and we’ll gain it.”

“That’s a terrible plan,” Natasha told him.

Tony grinned. “I love it.”

“It’ll do,” allowed Natasha. “Now get out, Stark, I need to talk to my nonagenarian boys for a moment. And, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“If you eavesdrop, I’ll know.”

Tony left, grumbling about ungrateful older generations using his bus and his awesome tour guide skills and kicking him out. Natasha rolled her eyes. “Boys,” she said. “What’s gotten into Steve?”

“Only half the dick game he wants,” Bucky said.

Steve sighed. “That is not even remotely the—”

“Oh, excellent, have you two gotten a clue about Tony?”

“…”

She rolled her eyes again. “Steve,” she said. “Do you like Bucky and Tony?”

“Yeah,” said Steve.

“Bucky, do you like Steve and Tony?”

“Yeah,” said Bucky.

“Then ask him out, dumbasses,” Natasha said. “Say ‘hey, Stark, we’re boyfriends, do you want to be our boyfriend too?’. If he says yes, hey, drinks all around. If he says no, that’s his problem and you two can stick to being a duo instead of a trio.”

Steve glanced at Bucky. “What colour?” he asked.

“Green,” Bucky said.

“Me too.”

X-x-X-x-X

One of the Hydra soldiers who attacked them, right at the edge of the Grand Canyon, tried to use a portable version of their Winter Soldier mind-wiping tech on Bucky. Steve did not react very well. The other agents had gotten luckier, now closed in the back bedroom, which apparently turned into a cell when it wasn’t a bedroom or a Jacuzzi. (Tony had bowed dramatically.)

"I don't remember you being this ruthless," Bucky said, peering over the lip of the cliff down at the dead Hydra agent below.

"Well," said Steve. "You didn't remember much for a while. And when you woke up, you had people waiting for you. I remembered everything. And I woke up to an empty room and a lie and a stack of files that said I'd lost everything and everyone. And this – what they did to you – if you had just died, I would insist on fair trials and quick deaths. But instead they took away your freedom, and made you a tool, and now I'm starting to appreciate Natasha's methods."

Bucky looked at him with the strangely intense stare he'd gained as the Soldier. "Do you wish I'd'a died the man I was instead?"

Steve choked on a breath. "Buck... no. No, it's worse than that. I'm kinda glad, in a twisted sort of way, that it happened. Because now I don't have to face this century alone. And maybe if you'd been found frozen like me, but... I changed, and you would've woken up the same guy you were when we got on that damned train. 'S like we both got broken, so we aren't the same, but we still fit together. Differently, but ... you're still my best guy." He carefully didn't look at Bucky after that.

Gravel crunched behind them. "That was damned poetic for a speech given on the edge of a godforsaken chasm over a dead Nazi," Stark said. Steve and Bucky both groaned. "Oh, sorry, did I ruin the moment? I was just coming over to tell you two grandpas to stop angsting and kiss. C'mon, sunset over the Grand Canyon, no one around, and hey! Third kiss is the charm, right, Cap?"

Steve glanced at Bucky, who rolled his eyes and said, "Get over here, Stark."

Tony settled in on Steve's other side, holding a bag of caramel popcorn. "Why'm I here?" He asked.

"So you can't take pictures," Bucky said.

"Fair enough. Though it'd look great in your romcom montage. Did I mention I'm making you guys a romcom montage?"

"Shut him up," Steve said, face in his hands.

Bucky scooted up behind Steve and grabbed Tony by the shoulders. "Hey now," Tony began, a second before Bucky kissed him.

"Mmmmf!"

"Tony," Steve said, even though he knew Tony was being distracted by a very, very skilled kisser (and killer, but that was secondary here) right now, "my third kiss was definitely the charm, but you're about a month late."

"Um," said Tony.

Bucky leaned back and gazed out at the view. "Yeah, this place really does live up to its reputation. Puttin' things in perspective."

"UM," Tony said.

"It's nice," agreed Steve. "But I dunno about perspective. What do you think, Tony?"

“UM!” Tony repeated.

“Aww,” said Bucky.

Steve grinned and tipped his head back. “I think we broke the finest mind of the century.”

“I just got propositioned by Captain America and his assassin boyfriend, give me a minute,” Tony snapped.

With a shrug, Steve turned to Bucky. “We can amuse ourselves, right Buck?”

“I have a few ideas.”

They traded a couple of lingering but relatively chaste kisses, Bucky cupping Steve’s chin with his metallic hand, and then Tony made a high-pitched noise, and Steve laughed into Bucky’s mouth and pushed him back onto the dull orange stone. He tangled his hand in Bucky’s long hair to cushion his head against the rock, and then leaned down to press kisses to the edge of his jaw. “How’re you doin’ over there, Stark?” Bucky drawled as he bared his neck.

“I’m in,” said Tony. “I’m so in, okay, wow, yes.”

“We aren’t looking for a one-time thing,” Steve said, looking up at him.

Tony hesitated. “I don’t do very well at relationships,” he said.

“Tony,” said Steve, and though he sounded like he was trying very hard to be patient, he didn’t sound condescending. “This is my first relationship.”

“That’s not helping!” Tony said.

Bucky stretched his metal arm towards Tony. “Give us a shot. You’re a genius, you can figure it out.”

His eyes flickered to the robot hand, then to the planes of super-soldiers pressed against each other, and then shrugged. “I’ve had worse ideas,” he said.

Steve gave a pointed look to the red and gold tour bus.

“Hush,” said Tony, and Bucky yanked him over to them.

**Author's Note:**

> Steve Rogers has precisely zero time for racist bullshit. Definitely inspired at least a bit by the ever-flawless Scifigrl47's "Phil Coulson Is Not The Avengers' Public Relations Manager", wherein social injustice sometimes just happens.


End file.
